“But, Ceil, it’s what we were planning to do. We’re just doing it a little faster. It makes sense for Jack to start pre-K in Mendham. We’ve been cramped for these six months in your apartment, and you didn’t want to move downtown to mine.”
It was the day after my birthday, the day following the big surprise. We were having breakfast in my apartment, the one that six years ago I had been hired to decorate for Larry, who became my first husband. Jack had rushed through a glass of juice and a bowl of cornflakes, and hopefully was now getting dressed for day camp.
I don’t think I had closed my eyes all night. Instead I lay in bed, my shoulder brushing against Alex, staring into the dark, remembering, always remembering. Now wrapped in a blue and white linen robe, and with my hair twisted into a bun, I was trying to appear calm and collected as I sipped my coffee. Across the table, impeccably dressed as always in a dark blue suit, white shirt, and figured blue and red tie, Alex was rushing through the slice of toast and mug of coffee that was his everyday breakfast.
My suggestion that, while the house was beautiful, I would want to be able to completely redecorate it before we moved in had met with resistance from Alex. “Ceil, I know it was probably insanity to buy the house without consulting you, but it was exactly the kind of place we both had in mind. You had agreed to the area. We talked about Peapack or Basking Ridge, and Mendham is only minutes from both of them. It’s an upscale town, convenient to New York, and, besides the fact the firm is moving me to New Jersey, the added plus is that I can get in some early morning rides. Central Park just doesn’t do it for me. And I want to teach you how to ride. You said you’d enjoy taking lessons.”
I studied my husband. His expression was both contrite and pleading. He was right. This apartment really was too small for the three of us. Alex had given up so much when we married. His spacious apartment in SoHo had included a large study, with room for his splendid sound system and even a grand piano. The piano was now in storage. Alex had a natural gift for music, and thoroughly enjoyed playing. I know he misses that pleasure. He’s worked hard to accomplish all he has. Though a distant cousin of my late husband, who himself had come from wealth, Alex was decidedly a “poor relation.” I knew how proud he was to be able to buy this new house.
“You’ve been saying that you want to get back to decorating,” Alex reminded me. “Once you’re settled, there’d be plenty of opportunity for that, especially in Mendham. There’s a lot of money there, and plenty of big houses being built. Please give it a try, for me, Ceil. You have a standing offer from the people next door to purchase this apartment at a nice profit to you. You know that.”
He came around the table and put his arms around me. “Please.”
I hadn’t heard Jack come into the dining room. “I like the house, too, Mom,” he piped up. “Alex is going to buy me my own pony when we move there.”
I looked at my husband and son. “It looks as though we have a new home,” I said, trying to smile. Alex is desperate to have more space, I thought. He loves the idea of being near the riding club. Eventually I’ll find a different house in one of the other towns. It won’t be hard to persuade him to move. He did admit that it was a mistake to buy without consulting me, after all.
One month later the moving vans were pulling away from 895 Fifth Avenue and heading for the Lincoln Tunnel. Its destination was One Old Mill Lane, Mendham, New Jersey.